


When Words Are Not Enough

by LilyRosetheDreamer



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Blood and Gore, F/M, Gen, M/M, Spoilers, also many many hugs for a good boy called Broly, may be some shipping not sure yet, there will be spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-13 14:02:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17489372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilyRosetheDreamer/pseuds/LilyRosetheDreamer
Summary: There are many ways to hug someone. Broly finds that he likes each and every one of them.





	1. Hugs that rock you from side to side

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! So when-in-doubt-sing on Tumblr posted an incomplete list of best hugs and I was very much inspired to write this set of one shots for each hug. Each one is going to feature my best man Broly because he deserves every single one of these hugs. There WILL be spoilers. This was written to Karmina - All the King’s Horses. Enjoy!

It’s been a week.

It’s been a whole week since his father died, but it feels like it happened hours ago, the wound still a deeply set ache in Broly’s battered heart. The confusion and fear overlaps with the grief and shock, an inability to stop questioning whether he _should_  be grieving the Saiyan who did little except hurt him holding him fast.

He knows how Cheelai and Leemo feel about it - they’re happy to see the back of his father. But Broly has only ever known Paragus. He’s only ever known his presence even when it hurt, even when it drove him to tears. He cannot imagine life without him. Surely his father had good reason for such behaviour - Broly must deserve punishment, otherwise his father would never have touched him.

Cheelai and Leemo have been kind to him, but they do not, _cannot_  understand. Maybe it’s better they don’t - at least they can remain happy. Broly has to live in a reality without Paragus and it’s painful. Despite everything, he raised Broly, came for him when nobody else would, so Broly wants to do _something_ to commemorate him (he has to be grateful, he must be). He dares not tell Cheelai or Leemo.

He’ll only get into trouble if they find out.

That’s how it’s always been, so why would they be any different? Paragus could be kind too...when it benefited him.

Broly shakes his head, cresting the hill overlooking their cave on Vampa as sweat beads on his skin. The air is humid as usual and he carries a hefty rock as if the weight means nothing to him.

It doesn’t.

He can’t think of any other way to remember his father. He just hopes his father feels it’s somewhat honourable enough; he talked often enough about Saiyan pride and honour.

He won’t be dishonourable to his father.

He can’t.

The black stone is deposited gently on to the rough soil and Broly steps back a moment, eyeing it critically. Veins of grey snake their way through the ebony gleam - it reminds Broly of the dry night storms Vampa sometimes experiences. The raw power of it is always strangely comforting to him and the unwelcome thought of leaving Vampa crosses his mind again. He pushes it away nervously. Cheelai is more vocal than Leemo about leaving and Broly never says anything in return. He’ll have to leave with them.

He just...needs more time.

That’s allowed, isn’t it?

Isn’t it?

He doesn’t ask.

“That’s a nice rock.”

Broly startles violently, eyes huge as he whips round to see gruff Leemo standing casually behind him with his hands in his pockets. This is what he _didn’t_  want to happen.

Broly opens his mouth, then closes it and looks away, unable to say anything. He’s paralysed by abrupt fear.

“Guess there was no body to bring back, huh?”

He guessed, of course he did; it was too obvious.

Broly hunches in on himself, gaze dropping to the ground as he waits for Leemo’s inevitable berating. He doesn’t want to lose his new friends so soon, but Broly always does eventually - he’s never been any good at holding on to the things he loves.

“Are you gonna put his name on it, kid?”

Leemo’s voice is gentle, shockingly so, and Broly’s dark eyes flick up to stare in surprise.

The brown alien kneels by the stone, inspecting everything around it with a furrowed brow, running his hands over the site. A slight breeze picks up and brings peace with it for a moment.

“This is a decent place. Think he’d like it?”

“...No,”

Leemo glances at him as he gets up, patting himself down.

“Hated the place, did he?”

“He...never wanted to be here. Dad was never happy here,”

Broly is the one to sink to his knees by the stone this time, suddenly overwhelmed at his stupidity. Of COURSE his father would hate this. If he’d been still alive, he would have scoffed at Broly’s sentiment, his lack of thought.

_Why can’t you just be a fucking Saiyan for once?!_

Broly doesn’t realise he’s crying until Leemo wraps both arms around him awkwardly (there IS a height difference) and starts to rock him from side to side. It’s stunted and a little strange, but Broly doesn’t try to break away at least. He’s never been touched like this.

When did his father do this?

“My old man was never buried,”

Broly’s tears drip on to clenched fists.

“There wasn’t time, that’s what I kept telling myself.” Leemo’s voice is even as he continues to rock them both, constantly trying to find a comfortable position to place his arms and hands. “But you wanna know the truth? I just hated his guts. Broly, that automatically makes you better than me!”

Leemo pulls away for a moment, putting a hand on Broly’s shoulder. Broly has a weird urge to laugh hysterically, what’s wrong with him?

“You know I’m not fond of your old man either, but that’s not my call to make. He’s your dad - and if putting up a memorial for him helps you, then do it,”

Broly closes his eyes and roughly rubs away the tears with the back of his hand. He has to stop crying, it’s pathetic. Leemo is being too kind to him right now, it’s the least he could do.

At least he could try and be strong for Paragus.

He takes a deep breath and strokes the fur pooling around his waist with his finger and thumb.

“Thank you very much,”

Leemo regards him for a moment, before smiling strangely. It looks almost sad. He doesn’t have a reason to be sad, right?

“You’re welcome, Broly,”

As the two suns set a few hours later, the rays land on an empty hill, touching the ebony rock standing sentinel upon it just enough to highlight the crudely carved name of Paragus.


	2. “Omg what are you doing here??” surprised hugs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A happier chapter this time! Thank you for the love for the first chapter, it means a lot to me.

This is overwhelming.

Earth is so much and so vibrant and there’s just...noise everywhere and Broly doesn’t really know what to do about it. He has little experience with crowds and yet, for some reason that’s becoming harder to remember the longer he spends in the “mall”, he’s decided to go to a place FULL of people. This is only his second time on Earth so far; he may have made a mistake.

This was an awful idea, he thinks sluggishly as someone bumps into him for the third time, and his anxiety shoots up another notch. His lungs compress and his skin prickles, a ringing in his ears due to the incessant warbling coming from the ceiling. The air smells interesting at least. Kakarot’s Bonded, ChiChi, told him it was food and perfume, but it’s not something he recognises just yet. There’s definitely salt and and a sickly sweet taste that sticks to the back of his throat. The lights are too unnatural, shining off the glossy floor and bouncing into the back of his aching eyeballs.

A small group of humans laugh loudly and he ducks his head as it throbs, feeling eyes drill into his neck and open back. He’s too exposed here, stands out too much.

Broly wants to leave right now.

“Hey, do you know what Cheelai likes? You can’t just give a woman _anythin’,_ y’know!”

It takes a moment too long for him to process what ChiChi cheerfully said and she peers at him in concern, taking note of Broly’s dull eyes and pinched expression.

“D’you want to go outside?” She asks kindly.

“Please,” he whispers but she seems to hear him, for the small but rather intimidating woman quickly steers him towards the exit, hand on the small of his back.

It’s better outside. There’s a cold wind on his face that shocks him back to life and he can just sit and stare blankly at the grey “concrete” while he smoothes a hand through Bah’s fur and recovers. People pass by and _don’t_ jostle him, thank all that is good.

“Hey, sorry about that,” ChiChi apologises from his left. “Should’ve figured really. I’ll go back in and just -!”

She’s cut off by a familiar cry of delight.

“Oh hey! What are _you_ doing here, big guy?!”

Arms circle his waist as he stands on instinct for Prince Vegeta’s Bonded, Bulma. She looks surprised to see him here, but happy at the same time, painted mouth agape and deep blue eyes wide in welcome.

It sparks an answering warmth in Broly’s stomach and his lips quirk upwards shyly as he tentatively wraps a big arm around her loosely in return. He’s still not used to all this attention, and he’s terrified of hurting her accidentally, but feels like maybe she would be “left hanging” (hanging from what?) if he didn’t respond.

Earth has some strange idioms.

“Getting a present for Cheelai,” he replies softly, receiving a grin in return.

“She’s pretty good to you, I get it! Wish Vegeta would do that more, you’re so nice!”

Broly’s cheeks flush pink as ChiChi also gets the surprised hug and Broly moves out of the way of a larger group wandering through. He’s not nice, just...trying? Maybe?

“I didn’t realise you’d both be here together though! You should have said!”

Bulma loops an arm through his and shushes him before he can apologise.

“Why don’t I show you how to _really_ shop, hm?”

She winks and Broly becomes increasingly uncomfortable at the thought of going back into that labyrinth. It must show on his face, for ChiChi intervenes.

“Actually, we were getting some air,” she says pointedly and Broly can’t help being pathetically grateful.

No wonder Kakarot Bonded with her.

“In that case, guess we’d better have a lunch break!” Bulma amends, patting Broly’s hand and laughing as he visibly brightens.

He might not eat like the other Saiyans yet, but he can still appreciate and get excited over trying new food.

This day isn’t so bad after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is shorter than the last chapter, as I kinda struggled a bit with this one? Oh well, hope it’s okay!


	3. Hugs when other person squeezes you before letting go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So forgot to mention that some of these one-shots relate to each other, some don’t, some are set in canon, some are set in my AU. Anyway, on with the story!

Kakarot is a very...hands on person, Broly notices. He’s not shy about giving affection, and to watch him play and tease and touch is strange, but oddly fascinating. Broly grew up in a cold, stagnant environment with a father who saw him the same way he saw everything else - a tool, a weapon for survival. Such warmth is unfamiliar to him.

These uncomfortable thoughts have been cropping more recently, appearing even in the little sleep he gets at night. Broly pushes away the moaning monster in his head with a shudder.

Across from him, elbowing Prince Vegeta playfully is the subject of his thoughts, all bright smiles and sparks of pure life dancing in his eyes. Broly is slow and empty in comparison, muted out of sheer necessity. Getting by day to day has become harder since his father passed on, and all Broly wants to do is sleep, to hide away and let the universe drift by. But he’s here in a supposedly special place (it thrums with something ancient) with Kakarot and Vegeta for the first time and he can barely bring himself to move or care. Something is hollow in his chest and Broly can’t help but fear it, when he feels anything at all. Cheelai and Leemo keep giving him funny looks at home.

It’s all so sudden...what’s _wrong_ with him?

“Oh, hey, they’re here!” Kakarot cries out eagerly, moving to Broly and jolting him out of his spiralling thoughts. “Look Broly, these guys are gonna start teachin’ you too!”

“Beerus doesn’t do anything and you know it,” the prince scoffs but he comes to stand by Broly’s side as well.

“I heard that, _boy_ ,” Beerus warns with narrowed eyes and Broly instinctively tries to make himself smaller, despite the warning not being directed at him. He remembers Whis vaguely and glances away in shame. To have attacked such a higher being - it was the height of rudeness. He really had been that far gone.

Whis just smiles indulgently.

“I finally get to meet you properly!” He practically coos, circling Broly as he appears to inspect the Saiyan closely.

Broly attempts to follow him with his tired eyes as he goes round, feeling an uncontrollable sense of urgency. He doesn’t like it when people do things like that.

“I see, you _are_ very alert! Must be all the survival training your father put you through,” Whis surmises, nodding in satisfaction. “You’ll definitely be attentive,”

Broly doesn’t feel particularly attentive.

He hasn’t told many people about the relationship between he and his father. Cheelai and Leemo are the only ones who truly have any idea of what he was like and he’s not sure why. He keeps his mouth shut this time as well, dark eyes wide but shadowed heavily from his lack of sleep. He wonders why Whis doesn’t call out this obvious sign of weakness and this makes Broly more on edge than usual, despite dulled senses. He is reminded of what manners Paragus instilled into him a bit late but he murmurs an apology and tries to form a greeting anyway. These people are high-ranking, after all, and his father isn’t here to cover up his dull-witted behaviour anymore.

“Hello, sir,”

“Oh _my,_ he called me sir!” Whis chuckles warmly and takes a step backwards. “I am flattered!”

“Definitely politer than these two cretins,” Beerus says through a yawn and Vegeta bristles.

The rest of the meeting blurs by after that, Broly barely paying attention to any of it. He’s under the distinct impression that he’s being mocked, however, so he keeps his gaze trained to the bristly “grass” under his feet.

It’s safer that way.

And then he’s following Kakarot and Prince Vegeta to a room with three big beds and he doesn’t know how he ended up there.

He’s more tired than he realises, he thinks muzzily. Broly’s always had trouble sleeping and now it seems out of control.

Like him.

He refuses to be like that anymore or ever again. It’s why he’s training, but part of him is resigned and terrified to use any of his power.

Broly doesn’t realise he’s closed his eyes until someone nudges his ribs. He jerks, swaying lightly.

“You don’t look too good,” Kakarot exclaims, tilting his head as he squints at him. “You okay?”

When did Prince Vegeta leave? Surely he should have noticed that!

His father would be disappointed.

“I-I’m sorry,”

“Aw nah, don’t be sorry, you look like you just need some sleep,” Kakarot deflects, smiling sympathetically.

Before Broly can react, his new friend reaches out carefully and pulls him into a warm, strong hug. It’s the first hug from Kakarot.

“Oh,” he whispers out loud without quite meaning to, and there’s a firm but good squeeze before Kakarot lets go.

Broly’s muscles finally start to relax. He feels safer for the moment - for the first time in years, Broly _wants_ to sleep because he guesses that this Saiyan sitting across from him will watch over him. Nobody will slip a collar around his neck while Kakarot’s here.

His hand twitches up to his neck before aborting the movement. Two pairs of black eyes find each other.

“You wanna sleep for a bit?” Kakarot asks, patting the pillow of the nearest bed invitingly.

Broly nods, fighting to keep his lids open now.

“Yes please.”

Vegeta enters the room again an hour later, rubbing his hair dry, to find both Goku and Broly deeply asleep in the same bed. Goku’s arms wrap around Broly and he snores loudly. Broly curls into Goku with his face pressed into his hair and sleeps silently, but peacefully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gotta have some sleep, Broly, it’s good for you! At least Goku is there to help!  
> Hope you all liked this one!


	4. Hugs where the other person presses their face into your shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one follows on from the previous chapter. :3

Bodies lie scattered around him when he returns to himself, shivering as the adrenaline slowly drains from his limbs. Everything had been a haze, dark in places, and he has no idea where they are.

Where is he? Why does it remind him of a twisted version of Vampa?

The sands are silver here, glowing and dotted and splashed with red in places. There’s a faint rumbling in the distance, the voice of a disgruntled god, and the sky is an oily puce as something hisses and cackles in apparent delight behind him.

Where are the others?

Broly twists uneasily as he tries to find them. He remembers their voices, hears the echo of their screams - !

Screaming? Why - ?

He looks down at his hands to find them twitching and dripping with blood, red and blue.

Oh no, oh by the Gods, what’s happened?! What has Broly done this time?!

Shaking violently, Broly pulls himself to his unsteady feet (he came back to himself on his knees for some reason) and takes a reluctant step forward. Scraps of orange litter the ground, becoming swallowed by the strangely sticky sand, and Broly stares upon Kakarot’s limp body, his eyes wide and lifeless. There are no suns there anymore, no soul, and Broly staggers back like he’s been shot, his own dark eyes widening in horror.

“K-Kakarot?”

Goku’s jaw is missing and he’s stiff in rigor mortis.

Broly retches, unable to connect the dots for a moment, unable to keep looking. He’s certain he did this, there’s no other explanation, but oh Gods please no, please not them, _please_ \- ! There’s nobody else around to blame - !

Vegeta barely has a face at all as Broly frantically finds him next and the Saiyan gags again, his stomach aching to expel its contents. There’s white carving out of his stomach too, they’re his ribs, _these are his ribs!_ Broly’s gasping for air by now, panic smothering him and snatching his breath from his throat. He lets go of the body, stumbles back while the sand catches at his ankles, and falls over a smaller, charred husk. The only thing recognisable is Lemo’s hat as meat cooks.

An aborted keen breaks from the back of his throat and Broly heaves at the iron, the smell of burnt flesh. He did this, he did this, he’s a _monster_ \- !

There’s a dreadful rattling sound to his right and his hand hits skin. Frightened out of his mind, Broly’s eyes unwillingly travel to the last dying victim of his rage. Condemning pupils shrink as they lock gazes.

“ **You...** ” Cheelai wheezes through a broken neck, her throat crushed.

For some horrible reason, his father’s voice sounds gleeful in his ear as her hand falls and she stills.

“ **You always were a danger, you killed _me_  after all! Come back and take another collar, son!**”

Broly grabs at his messy hair with bloody wild hands and finally starts shrieking, his mind cracking like glass as giggles split the air and he can’t stop.

 

* * *

He wakes screaming too and the lights blind him as they click on immediately, tensing his shoulders.

“Holy shit,” someone growls to his left as he thrashes desperately. There’s blood everywhere, he needs to run.

“Broly!” Kakarot cries, sitting bolt upright and fighting to get a hold of him. “Broly, we’re here! You’re not where you think you are, I swear!”

“Broly, calm down this instant!” Vegeta (that’s who it is, but how?) snarls, moving to restrain him as well.

Broly breaks free of their grasping hands and bolts into the corner, pulling Bah’s fur with him. They’ll kill him, Bah won’t protect him, not here, not at all.

Bah!

Kakarot waits a moment before carefully approaching and he seems heartbroken to see Broly clutch the soft fur to his face and curl away, crying in earnest. He’s never seen Broly cry like this.

“Broly...”

“Is he going to go berserk?” Vegeta asks warily, ever practical, and Broly flinches, tears soaking the neon green fur.

Vegeta, Fourth of his name, is right to say that, he thinks wildly, shuddering as Kakarot snaps at Vegeta for being cold. He needs to be locked away, like his father used to do sometimes. The pod was always pitch black and lonely, but Broly deserved it.

He’s a vicious, evil killer.

“Hey,”

Kakarot is crouching down slowly, his gaze open and plaintive.

“What happened, bud? What’s wrong?”

Broly shakes his head timidly, trying to compose himself. He can’t tell them, they’ll punish him, he _knows_ they will!

But...

He’s tired.

He’s tired of fear, tired of hiding away and worrying about his own sickening strength. He never asked for this, never _ever_ wanted it!

All he wants is some peace.

He isn’t allowed to want.

Kakarot and the Prince have been kind, so so kind though. They’ll understand, right? His father never did, but they will, right? He’s not sure if this is a product of his warped imagination. Maybe he finally went mad and made up other Saiyans for company, made up aliens from outer space to rescue him from a backwater hellhole. Maybe he should ask?

Something must show in watery ebony eyes as he lifts his head slightly, reaches out with one hand to a possible ghost before getting cold feet again and flinching away. Broly clings to Bah’s fur and shivers.

Kakarot pulls him in for the second hug today and feels blessedly solid.

Two hugs from Kakarot.

Broly’s eyes roam as he leans in and presses his face against Goku’s shoulder. He doesn’t understand what he’s done to deserve being spoiled like this and he’s still freaking out privately at the danger he knows he poses. He can’t resist this warmth, however; his body is greedy for touch, for this comforting, sinking warmth.

“You’re here, aren’t you?” He whispers hesitantly, desperate to confirm that his new friends are alive. “I...didn’t hurt you, I mean, _kill_ you?”

Kakarot stills momentarily (Broly’s been bad he’s done it now) and then squeezes tighter, brushing a hand through Broly’s soft hair again and again. Maybe he needs comfort too?

The Prince sighs.

“You didn’t kill us the first time and you couldn’t if you tried. Quit worrying!”

He sounds dismissive, the self-belief he holds ringing true - Vegeta believes fully that he could survive Broly’s anger.

Broly doesn’t, but says nothing, pushing his face further into Kakarot’s supportive shoulder instead. Kakarot leans his chin on top of Broly’s head and it moves as he speaks.

“We’re here,” he soothes. “And we ain’t goin’ anywhere for _ages_ yet!”

He feels Goku smile and tightens his grip.

“Sorry,” he breathes, afraid of the risk. “ I’m sorry, I - I woke you both, so we should, uh, sleep -,”

“Not your fault,” Kakarot cuts him off firmly, not unkindly. “ _Don’t_ apologise for feeling, Broly. You’re allowed to feel.”

Broly clings to him and tries to hide his tears anyway. Vegeta stands sentinel.

It’s a gentle night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all like this chapter! Heavy angst happened, whoops! Broly has PTSD and it shows.

**Author's Note:**

> Much as I hate Paragus, I believe Broly would perhaps do something like this, despite everything. Feelings are complicated when it comes to abusive families, I think. Hope you all liked this first chapter!


End file.
